


For One Night and One Night Only

by goldtintedskies



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Music, Anxiety, Based on a Tumblr Post, Battle of the Bands, Canon Non-Binary Character, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, band au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 04:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15942170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtintedskies/pseuds/goldtintedskies
Summary: Caleb and Nott are up and coming musicians in a city they'd rather leave. Fjord and Jester are having trouble working together on an album, and Caduceus has just quit the band he was in with Molly, Yasha and Beau. Meanwhile, the Iron Shepherds are inciting homophobic violence across the Marrow Valley.As the Harvest Close Festival draws nearer the gang realises that sometimes, when everything is falling apart, you need a common enemy.





	For One Night and One Night Only

**Author's Note:**

> based on this tumblr post http://feyfrumpkin.tumblr.com/post/177875614265/for-one-night-and-one-night-only

Caleb sighs as he runs his fingers through his already unkempt hair. For all his prior experience playing large crowds he still gets nervous right before he goes on stage; although, he reminds himself, it could be worse, at least he’s not having panic attacks before gigs anymore. 

When him and Nott started off playing smaller gigs and concerts, Caleb’s main fear was of being recognised. He logically knew he was safe from Trent: he had been locked behind bars for over a decade now. Yet, there was still a voice in the back of his head which reminded him of how smart, how cunning Trent was; how easily he could escape, find him and make him pay for his betrayal. 

Caleb still flinches when he sees bearded men across the street or the ends of a trench coat swishing around the corner. This, however, isn’t what makes the concerts terrifying to him. It is the idea that someone from his village: someone who knows what he has done, will see him here on stage, wasting the life his parents gave him. Caleb Widogast, gifted child, genius extraordinaire, singing for a living like some kind of common tramp. It was shameful, that he could do such a thing, wasting his gifts and dishonouring the memory of his parents.

Now, with the therapy, Caleb finds it easier to relax before performances but the fear of being judged by his past lives on. The breathing exercises and the presence of Frumpkin his pet-slash-therapy cat made him practically feel like a changed man compared to the nervousness he would feel before performing a mere five years ago.

Tonight, him and Nott are playing their largest gig yet, and their first open air concert, opening for the Cobalt Souls: the biggest band on their record label. They are promoting the release of their first album: ‘Steal It, Shoot It or Set It on Fire’. Caleb always likes to point out that Nott comes up with the names for all of their work. 

Performing at an open-air concert, in a football stadium of all things, was a big step up from the private jam sessions where they had started making demos after meeting in court mandated group therapy. 

He sighs once more.

“You’ll be fine kiddo, don’t stress out too much, they’ll love you.” Dairon states gruffly. The lead singer of the Cobalt Souls is re-known for her tough love attitude and Caleb is grateful for her platitudes, which he knows to be well meaning. 

“It’s only normal for amateurs to freak out the first time they open for professionals,” sneers Xenoth, the bassist for the Cobalt Souls, from across the room, “I wouldn’t expect you to have ever aspired to performing with stars like us.” Unlike his bandmate his words are intentionally harsh. 

Caleb is aware of the fact that Xenoth would rather not play with ‘freaks’ like them; his dedication to parroting Imperial propaganda goes beyond the lip service that the rest of them pay to the Empire in public. Caleb says a silent thanks to Pumat, his and Nott’s manager, for insisting that everyone on the record label signed an NDA which has been mostly effective at protecting Nott from the state sponsored prejudices that run rampant in the industry.

“Fuck off numb nuts”, Nott squeaks from her near constant position next to Caleb’s side, “We all know you don’t like me and my kind, doesn’t mean you have to be a total dick to Caleb as well.”  
Xenoth glowers at her from across the room. “If your fans knew about your little green secret, I bet they’d turn on you faster than you could say bloodthirsty monster.” He says, the implied threat hanging heavy in the air. 

“That’s enough,” snaps Dairon, before Nott can retaliate verbally or otherwise.

“Xenoth, stop being such a racist prick, or I swear to the Knowing Mistress I’ll break your fingers before you can get another slur out of your mouth, contractual obligations be damned.”  
Xenoth barely has a chance to open his mouth again before Dairon rounds on him again and adds “good bassists are a copper a dozen these days, so don’t think you’re untouchable.” With that, Xenoth’s smirk drops clean off his face.

“Alright, alright, places people,” a tech calls.

Caleb, taking a breath of relief, nods his thanks to Dairon and grabs his guitar. He walks on stage without looking back.

Nott shoots a final glare at Xenoth before walking out onto the stage, her habitual jittery nature disappearing almost immediately as she steps into her element, the twirling motion of her drumsticks between her fingers, the only sign of nervousness in her otherwise composed presentation. 

Stepping out to face the crowd Caleb is grateful to his in-ear monitors for reducing the wall of sound that hits him as soon as he gets on stage. The IEMs help him navigate the sensory hell of a concert stage as he utilises his memory of the dress rehearsal a few hours earlier to calm reassure himself with the reminder that he has done this entire routine without mistake, earlier this afternoon. Feeling slightly more prepared, he walks up to the microphone and begins the show.

“Guten Abend!” he says cheerfully, in a way that anyone who knows him can tell is distinctly out of character, pausing for the screamed replies which roll out from the audience,  
“We are The Magicked Rogue, and this is our song Dancing Lights. We hope you enjoy it!”, 

Glad to have the talking out of the way Caleb steps back from the mike and adjusts his guitar strap before nodding to Nott who begins the count down with her drumsticks. He notes, with a wry smile, that the worry he so often sees in her eyes when they are out in public has vanished, instead it is replaced with the courage and fearlessness her only sees in her on stage.

Caleb has known Nott long enough that while her doll’s mask and carefully constructed halfling persona seem to protect her when they are being filmed or interviewed, it is only with a drumkit between her and the rest of the world, that Nott truly feels safe. 

In these stolen moments on stage before reality kicks in and they start performing, Caleb is reminded of the fragility of his only friend and the respite from the world that the pair of them can only find together, through music. With that, Caleb puts all thought to the back of his mind and loses himself to the beat. 

\----------------------------

After performing a few more of their singles, including ‘Arcane Trickster’ and ‘Firebolt’, which is, much to Caleb’s horror, a crowd pleaser, Nott and Caleb bow out to allow the main act to perform. “Danke, danke,” he says gratefully after the cheering subsides, “you have all been wunderbar! Please, make some noise for your main act: The Cobalt Souls!”

Caleb and Nott spend the rest of the show backstage, settling into their post-performance rituals, waiting for the car to take them back to their apartment. Caleb pets Frumpkin while Nott sneaks a seemingly unending amount of alcohol from a hipflask stowed in the pocket of her jeans. The conversation eventually turns to the merits of staying on their record label, and more to the point, in Zadash. While the Invulnerable Vagrant is good to them, Caleb thinks, he and Nott have never spent some much time in one place, working with one group of people. It made Caleb anxious, staying in one city for so many months, where he could be easily found. 

“I’m just saying Caleb,” chimes Nott, breaking Caleb out from his reprieve, “that it’s good for us to have some back up, friends if this singing career goes downhill.”

“Ja spatz, I know, but I still do not trust them”

Caleb looks around to check where the crew is, then murmurs, “What do you think these people would do if they found out about my past, huh? What would they do if the world found out you are a goblin? They want our talent, the money we earn for them.” Shooting a look towards Xenoth’s case he adds, “these people are not ones we should be trusting.”

“Caleb,” Nott pleads, “I’m not saying I disagree with you, I would never do that, I just think we should maybe consider putting down some roots here in Zadash. This is a permanent thing, and we are still living like we’re on the run.”

Barely above a whispers Caleb turns to her and begins “Don’t talk so loud, your record may be sealed but…”

“You guys are playing the Harvest Close Festival, right?” Caleb is startled mid-whisper by Dairon who appears next to him, seemingly from the shadows.

“Ja, we are,” he says with a jump “Sorry, you, uh, startled me.”

“That’s okay.” replies Dairon with a low chuckle, “One of my former students, Beauregard is playing there with her band. You’ll like her, she takes good care of those she considers friends. You have a lot in common with her.”

Nott’s head turns towards Dairon with a snap, as she bares her teeth at her, “What do you mean we have a lot in common with her? Are you spying on us? I won’t let you do anything to hurt my Caleb.”

“Don’t you worry,” intones Dairon, a smug smile on her face, “You’ll find out soon enough.” With that she turns away and virtually slips back into the shadows, leaving Caleb and Nott to ruminate on the upcoming festival, and Dairon’s apparent interest in their friendships or lack thereof.

**Author's Note:**

> Watch Caleb use that 16 in charisma to charm people on stage instead of con them
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ feyfrumpkin.tumblr.com


End file.
